


Something Stupid

by killjxy



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Flustered GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn With Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Roommates, Sexual Tension, Slight praise/ degradation, Smut, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29688717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjxy/pseuds/killjxy
Summary: Dream is an affectionate person. George is not. Wine makes them both especially bold.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 375





	Something Stupid

It was a late night in the Dream and George household. The clock on their oven read 3:23am, and Sapnap had gone up to his room some hours ago. At one point, George thought it would be a good idea to open a bottle of wine and continue their conversation without him. He didn’t notice that as the alcohol flowed, Dream’s body seemed to magnetize to his. Every laugh they shared on the living room couch resulted in the blond leaning forward as he grasped at his stomach. Any chance he got to pat George on the arm, press his knee against his, rub circles onto his leg, he would take without question.

George didn’t mind though. This was an aspect of their friendship that had started to develop ever since he moved in with him and Nick. He knew Dream was a physical person, based on what he had observed between his roommates when he first brought in his various boxes from home. Dream would ruffle Nick’s hair, push him around playfully, let his head rest onto the other boy’s shoulder if he drifted to sleep during one of their _many_ movie nights. It was odd but endearing in a way. It showed George that Dream was genuine in his friendships, not that he found touch to be a necessary part of platonic relationships, but he appreciated how intertwined Dream’s expressions of love were; it was all or nothing. If he was emotionally connected, he needed to be physically connected as well.

George didn’t always feel this way. Dream’s touches used to be less loveable, more uncomfortably comfortable. While Dream had always been physical with his friends, George made a conscious effort to keep himself as far away from them as possible. Usually, he would put up with the hugs and the pushing, laughing off the interactions because he knows how important they are to his friends, but with Dream it felt… different. It was just too much.

_Two Days After the Move_

George, Dream, and Nick were sat at the dining room table, enjoying their first official meal together since George moved in. The newcomer had been holed up in his room for the better part of the weekend, clambering to set up his computer and furniture, as well as various knick-knacks around his bedroom.

“I’m just glad you’re finally here,” Nick mumbled through a bite of pasta. “I’ve had to deal with this asshole all by myself for six months.” He motioned to Dream with his fork, who rolled his eyes.

George gave a light chuckle, “You flatter me, but I’m not going to babysit for you, Sap.”

“Well I don’t see why you wouldn’t, it’s your turn.”

Dream sighed deeply, twirling his fork into the plate as he spoke, “You guys are acting like you’re changing my fucking diapers.”

“You wish I would change your diapers,” Nick mumbled.

George threw his head back. “I wish this conversation would be over.” He brought his head back up quickly after the boys were silenced, rubbing his eyes. It was fairly late, and he had been running around the house all day trying to get his things in order. He returned to eating before he looked up to see Dream staring at him.

“What?”

“Don’t move,” was the taller man’s response, and he got up out of his chair, discarding his napkin on the table and lifting his arm. George was stunned to stillness by the laser focus in Dream’s eyes. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated now. The move from sitting to standing only reminded George of his inferior stature. He was still crumpled in his chair, while the other was quickly closing in on him. Dream was a tower, especially now that he stretched himself over the furniture, making his body appear even larger than usual. His brows were furrowed, and a tinge of concern nested itself in his jaw. It tensed. George couldn’t help but watch. Dream’s hand gently cupped George’s face, his fingers nearly reaching the back of the older boy’s neck. His thumb swept across the apple of his cheek with such grace that George almost let himself melt into it. But he didn’t.

Instead, George nearly leaped backwards in his chair at the touch. He looked at the blond as if he had been slapped as opposed to… caressed?

“What was that?” He attempted to pass off the question as friendly, adding a light laugh to the end of the sentence, although it came off more as a scoff.

“Eyelash.” Dream held his hand up, displaying the dark hair resting between his thumb and forefinger. He blew the lash off his hand before taking his seat again, seemingly unaffected by George’s over the top reaction. George on the other hand, was feeling _very_ affected. All he could manage was to let out a nearly silent _“Oh”._

The silence was deafening. Nick continued to look at George with expressions ranging from concern to suspicion. George was quick to scoot his chair back up. The squeaking rang through the room and added to his embarrassment.

Nick broke the silence. “You need to chill out, man.” He cleared the rest of his plate at an Olympic pace, dropping his dish into the sink before heading upstairs. Dream looked on, amused, and turned his head to meet George’s gaze again. The smirk never left his face, but that wasn’t having the affect he wanted, so he raised his eyebrows for good measure.

“What?”

Dream didn’t respond, only continuing to look him up and down. He tilted his head to the side.

George’s frustration was clear now.

“You— you can’t just,” he threw his hands up, gesturing wildly as he spoke, as if his movement would help him pluck the right words out of the air, “you can’t just do that, you don’t just— just—" he brought himself out of his seat, before picking up his plate. “You can’t just touch people’s faces like that’s some super normal thing to do.” He huffed and speed walked up the stairs to his room. His mind was abuzz, but the pit in his stomach finally started to disappear when he put some distance between himself and Dream.

_Present_

“Hey,” Dream spoke, his head lain across George’s lap. “Do you remember that time I got an eyelash off of your face and you completely flipped out on me?”

The wine bottle was empty, and being the lightweights they were, the alcohol was having a profound effect on them.

“I did not ‘completely flip out’ you dick,” George defended.

“You totally did!” Dream brought himself up into a sitting position, facing the dark-haired boy.

“You _caressed_ me!” He bit back, immediately laughing at the absurdity of his sentence.

Dream lowered his voice. “Caressed?” He smiled a smile not dissimilar to the one he gave George on that night. “You think I _caressed_ you?”

“God you are so gross, how else would you describe it.”

“Well, personally,” he shifted in his spot, getting closer, “I would describe it as getting an eyelash off of my friends face. You’re welcome by the way.”

“Whatever,” George grumbled. He fiddled with his hands in his lap. Although he knew he was joking, talking about it still made him uncomfortable. They had come so far in their friendship, worked so hard to get to the point where George was truly comfortable with him. He didn’t like being reminded of his blunders.

“Hey, George?” Dream said softly.

“Mm?” He turned his head.

Dream lifted his hand, bringing it to rest just underneath George’s jaw. This time, his fingers did reach the back of his neck, pulling him forward like a gentle breeze. His breath hitched. This was not a friendly touch. George could handle friendly touches. _This_ was fire. Dream’s thumb made its way to his cheek, smoothing over it. He wasn’t focused on an eyelash this time. He was boring into George, not giving him a second to breathe. His thumb finished its path, joining the rest of his fingers in cupping the side of George’s face.

“Eyelash.” He breathed out.

“Yeah…of course.” George responded, his voice a whisper. Dream’s hand had not moved.

“You know,” his voice was low, velvet in George’s ears, “you’re supposed to make a wish.”

“Aren’t you supposed to blow on the actual eyelash for that?”

“Who cares,” he lowered his voice to a murmur, “Just do it, George.”

“Fine.” George closed his eyes, still especially conscious of one thing.

_Dream’s hand had not moved._

“Alright, I’m done.” George sighed dramatically, hoping to cut some of the tension. He couldn’t bare this. He opened his eyes.

That’s when he noticed just how much closer Dream had gotten to him. Their noses nearly brushed; Dream’s stare a million times more intense now that George could make out the patterns in his irises. He could see the freckles across his nose, the way his hair fell into his eyes. Dream brought up his other hand to the boy’s dark hair, brushing it back.

“What did you wish for?” Dream asked, disinterested. He was closing the gap and fast.

George rambled. “Something stupid, I don’t even remem—"

Dream connected their lips. It sent a shockwave through his body. His mouth moved aggressively over George’s, not giving him any time to react. The older boy tried desperately to keep up, but Dream was everywhere. His right hand pulled on the base of his scalp, the tug coaxing a moan from his lips. His left explored under his shirt, gripping the bare skin of his hip, holding onto George like he was the only thing keeping him from floating into space. George brought his hands to the front of his collar, pulling him further in. This was everything. It was the answer to why George was so avoidant of Dream’s touch, it was why he would feel empty anytime he left, it was why he dreamt of domesticity without the presence of Nick. Dream was everything.

Dream moved on top of George, laying him down on the couch beneath them. He wasted no time positioning his knee between the other’s legs. He nipped and sucked at George’s bottom lip, relishing in the gasps he could pull from him with ease. He moved his hand to grip his neck lightly, testing the waters. George’s reaction was immediate. He groaned into the kiss, pulling on his shirt, beckoning him to do it again.

“ _More.”_ George’s voice was soft and airy, just barely above a whisper.

Dream placed his fingers around the boy’s arteries, taking a moment to admire the way his hand wrapped so easily around his neck. He squeezed, hard. George moaned and arched his back, his crotch brushing against Dream’s, eliciting a moan from the man above him. Dream dipped down to the underside of his jaw, peppering him with kisses. George continued to writhe beneath him, desperate for any kind of friction he could get. Dream dropped his hand from his neck taking a moment to grip at his sides. George bucked his hips into him.

“ _Fuuck,”_ Dream breathed into George’s ear. The dark-haired boy’s hair stood on end at the contact, at the way his voice seemed to drop an octave. “ _George.”_

Dream started to palm at George through his sweatpants, strengthening his moans.

“Please, Dream,” George breathed.

“Please, what?” He dragged his lips along the smaller boy’s neck. “Tell me what you want.” His hand continued to move against him, stroking along his lower half, but never dipping below the fabric of his sweats.

“Please,” he gasped as Dream nipped at his neck once more, “Please fuck me.”

With that, Dream connected their lips again, his hand moving relentlessly against George. He pulled away. “Come on.” He led him off the couch and up the stairs, connecting their hands. George followed behind him like a puppy, shaking with anticipation.

  
As soon as they made it to Dream’s bedroom, careful to be quiet as not to wake up their roommate, Dream shifted his body to crowd against George’s against the door. His hand quickly dipped under his pants to stroke him. George’s gasps were untamable. He placed a hand over the older boy’s mouth and continued to tease him, moving up and down painfully slow. George was was gripping against Dream’s shoulders, digging his nails in with reckless abandon. He was desperate for him.

They moved to the bed; George dropped to his back with Dream following closely. He shoved his fingers into George’s mouth without warning, eliciting a gag from him. “Take off your clothes.” Dream’s words were laced with lust, his eyes were dark as they stared at George, unmoving. The man was quick to comply, removing his pants and underwear as quickly as he could. He dragged his shirt up to expose him completely, letting Dream observe the trail of hair that led downwards, beckoning him.

Dream dragged his fingers along the boy’s entrance, who covered his face in response. Immediately, he gathered George’s wrist in his unoccupied hand, pinning it above him.

“Don’t,” he scolded, “I want to see you blush.”

George whimpered. He felt a push against him, and the blonde’s finger was inside him, stretching and turning. “You ready for the next one?”

George nodded vigorously; his hands still pinned above him. His movement was completely restricted as Dream continued to add fingers and give whispered encouragement to the man beneath him.

“ _You’re doing so good, baby.”_

_“Taking my fingers so well.”_

George was a mess. His moans were becoming harder and harder to restrict, even when Dream returned his hand to his mouth, even when he made him choke on his fingers while he stimulated him, George could not contain himself. The younger man ducked his head down as he continued to pound into him. “Do you want Nick to hear you?”

George shook his head, but his noises never ceased.

“I think you do,” Dream’s voice reverberated against his neck, making its way down his spine, “I think you want him to know just how pathetic you sound.” George continued to move against him, heat spreading across his entire body. He started to feel something build in the pit of his stomach.

“I- I don’t.”

Dream chuckled. “Don’t lie to me, Georgie.” He pushed his hair back to see George’s face fully, a wash of red spread across his cheeks. “Don’t act like you don’t know how good you sound.”

With that, Dream pulled off his pants and lined himself up at the other’s entrance.

He returned to kiss at George’s neck and ears. “Show me just how loud you can be, baby.” Dream pushed in, and George gasped. He moved further, sucking in air through his teeth. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Dream,” George moaned, crying out as he took the rest of him.

After checking in on George, Dream’s motions were relentless. He pounded into him unforgivingly, covering his mouth to suppress the wild sounds the older boy was making.

“You look so— _fuck_ — pretty like this, taking my cock so— _ugh_ — well.” The sound of skin against skin filled the room, and George silently prayed the walls were thick enough. Everything about Dream was big: his hands, his height. His dick was no different. George felt full with Dream inside him, stretching him as much as he could take it.

Every time George thought the blend of pleasure and pain couldn’t get any more intense, he was proven wrong. Dream would thrust into him at different angles just to find _that_ spot, until he was brushing against it every time. George felt like he would explode. Dream reached down to his cock stroking it as he continued fucking into him. He was close.

“Fuck— Dream, I’m— I—”

“What is it baby? Spit it out,” the blonde teased, still not letting up.

“I’m—” he gasped as Dream went harder into him, “You’re gonna make me— _fuck—_ you’re gonna make me come.”

Dream’s strokes against George’s cock only became faster, “Then come for me.”

George felt the pressure in his stomach build, seeing stars as he squeezed his eyes shut. He came, nearly wailing at the release. Dream followed soon after, burying himself deep inside him as he finished, groaning his name. They fell into a heap on the bed, George only able to move his arm up and down the planes of Dream’s back.

They definitely weren’t quiet enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally never written anything like this before. Hopefully, it was half-readable.


End file.
